


Stop and Stare

by Witty_Whit



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Parody, Purple Prose, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witty_Whit/pseuds/Witty_Whit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a late night at a bar, someone gets a little too frisky. Challenge for Marcus/Fleur. Warnings: Crack and the purplest of prose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop and Stare

It was a rare day, a blissfully wonderful day, that one found another human being as sublimely gorgeous as this. Angels could not dare to tread where a mere human outshone them with their glorious brilliance. It was nothing short of a miracle, that one could not fall to pieces at the sight of this divine of a figure.

Every movement they made was elegance embodied, grace personified, and sophistication in the flesh. The eyes, not merely grey, but almost silver in their brilliance, twinkling and danced with every movement. The skin was pure, unblemished, and flushed slightly with laughter's rosy glow. And the best feature, as if one could be chosen above the rest, was the smile, blindingly white and flashing in the light.

It was almost more beauty than a meager mortal could stand be near, let alone look at. It was a blessing from the gods that such glorification even existed in this dreary world. A lone tear fell from the watcher's eye as such majesty was contemplated. The idea that such perfection could be found somewhere in this world made life now worth living. The admirer gave a gentle sigh of satisfaction.

A very drunk Fleur Delacour-Weasley stared across the bar at a very amused Marcus Flint.

Bill Weasley sighed as he kept a tight grip of his wife; any amount of alcohol and she became a very saccharine-sweet, touchy-feely woman. Three strong drinks and she quickly became completely enamored with the first person she saw.

Wryly, he winked at his wife's latest object of admiration, and wrapped her coat around her shoulders. He half-led, half-carried her out the door. At least she was light, never remembered a thing, and always found creative ways to make up with him. (Secretly, he found it hilarious, but he was willing to lay on the guilt if only for her tender ministrations.)

Laughing merrily to herself, Fleur wrapped her arms tightly around Bill's neck as he pulled her into his arms. Shaking his head as he slogged through the snow, he wondered to himself if a weekly visit to the pub was worth all this trouble.

The only consolation in all of this was that she had been very sober the night they had met.


End file.
